Being A Hero
by xXxEmeraldBlueXxX
Summary: "Why he called himself a hero? That answer was easy. He's trying to convince himself he was and to prove to England, and England alone that he really was the hero he used to have him for, tried to make him see him that way again and make him proud. That was all. "


Okay, so I was bored and decided to scroll through libertea-headcanons again and guess what I found?

**So I have this headcanon that when Alfred was a kid he used to get scared of monsters under the bed so Arthur told him that the monsters can never get him because Alfred is a superhero and has special powers, but then Alfred slowly forgot about it and when he was older he remembered and tried desperately to be the hero England said he was which is why he now talks about being a hero so much - because he's trying to convince himself he is one and there's more but word limit yeah.**

Thus this was born. I'm honestly not happy with anything other than the flashback but there are so little fanfictions about the great headcanons libertea-headcanons posts and I just had to upload it…

XXX

_The room was dark; there were shadows looming all around and the sound of rumbling thunder boomed throughout the whole room. A small figure was on the bed, only a lump visible under the blanket that outlined the persons back. The most heartbreaking sound were leaving the person's mouth; a small boy's mouth. The child looked nothing beyond seven, small hands fisting at the blanket and pulling it closer to him, sapphire eyes pinched shut. Salty tears were tracing his cheeks, gathering in his eyes before spilling over whenever lightning struck or when something seemed to move, branches outside rustling and creating friction against the window, giving birth to high-pitched sounds that didn't help the small colony on the bed at all._

_"G-go away stupid monsters…" He whimpered quietly to himself but flinched immediately after as, coincidentaly, lightning chose to strike right at that moment, making his belief harden._

_There was a monster under his bed._

_There had to be! What else explained all the shadows moving under there and the strike of lightning?! It was just a camouflage, just a blanket it hid under as it waited for the perfect moment to pounce on him and, and-!_

_There was a quiet creak of the door opening and America jumped, feeling his blond hair sweep over his cheeks and brush away a lone tear. "America…?" He recognised the voice! Despite his fear and tears, he still managed a wide grin._

_"E-England!" He cheered though just chocked up right after because the branch swept against the window again though he didn't know that and, to him, it heard like something moving under his bed. The sound of raindrops hitting the window was loud but it didn't over-power the sounds his mind alone heard, the loud roars of a hungry best, that just waited for England to go so it could eat him in peace._

_"E-England…Please, help…" He wasn't even ashamed about the weakness of his voice as he slowly sat up in the bed, wiping away salty tears with his left hand and turning his dark eyes towards England. The man was holding a small candlestick and, besides the bright stripes of lightning stretching across the sky, it was the only source of light in the dark room. The man's face was illuminated, eyes soft in worry as he started walking closer._

_"What's wrong, America?" His voice was soft and his pale hands put the candlestick on top of the night table beside the small colony's bed in favour of crawling on top of it, craddling the volnurable child to his chest. "You're crying, love…"_

_America didn't say anything for a while, just enjoyed the warmth of England's chest against his cheek and the firm heartbeat thumping under the skin. It was soothing, the organ going slowly yet firmly and he could hear the 'THUMP' s because his ear was pressed right where the old heart was beating. Eventualy, he spoke up though no longer afraid because he had England, his best friend there with him and he'll protect him, won't he? "T-there's a big, scary monster under my bed…I can hear it…" He looked up with big, impossibly blue eyes. England exhaled a chuckle._

_"Oh, America…" He breathed and raised a hand, lightly stroking his colony's hair, threading his fingers through the soft locks. "But that monster can't hurt you." America's ears perked up at that, eyes widening the smallest bit yet it still made England smile. "Do you want to know why?" He breathed. An eager nod was all he got in return, America leaning in closer as if anxious for the reply. "Because you're a great hero, America. No monster could ever dare touch you. You are special, you know? You have the power, that would make the monsters cower under you."_

_The small colony's eyes widened even further in awe and excitement and hope before his face was split into two by the sheer size of his bright grin. "R-really? Do you think so, England?" The boy asked eagerly and his grin tugged wider at the edges when England nodded his head, no hesitation in the movement._

_"Oh yes." He breathed as he leaned down to gently kiss his forehead. "I would never lie to you, America."_

_America seemed to drink in the praise, cheeks flushing lightly in happiness. It made him feel strong, to hear those words from England, his caretaker. He held onto the words and always, whenever he felt like there were monsters under his bed and they wanted to take him away, he remembered the words and managed to defeat the monster by sheer will power because it just left after a few tries._

_As he got older, however, the words were put into the farthest part of his mind, brain focusing on other thing than childish fantasies. It seemed stupid to him for a while but, by the time he turned physically fifteen, he forgot all about the 'nonsense'. He wasn't a little kid anymore but it seemed that, no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't get England to understand that as he was being treated like one_ _and it just frustrated him._  
><em>It was only around the Civil War did he remember them again and, for some reason, they became his personal motto. They helped him through many hardships and inspired him, made him pick himself up again after he fell.<em>

_And that's how his obsession with becoming a Hero came to be._

XX

"Hey guys!" America exclaimed happily as he opened the door towards the meeting hall open, grin genuine and not even a little sheepish even though he was late to the World Meeting. Again. "The hero's here!"

Everyone's stare was on him, some cheerful, others unimpressed but it was a regular occurance so it really shouldn't surprise anyone anymore.

But it wasn't his fault that he just coudln't make himself get up! The meetings were always so early in the morning and he just wanted to sleep because all the papers his boss gave him kept him up until 3 AM…

An irritated sigh passed Germany's lips as America cheerfully bounded into the room and plopped himself into his chair besides England like it was the most normal thing to do. "America, you're late. Again." The guy's voice was flat and he was sprouting an unamused, unimpressed glare, making America release a laugh, that echoed throughout the hall.

"Hey, chill man!" He grinned even wider, ignoring the glare he was receiving from England when he leaned back in his chair, feet bobbing to an non-existing rhythm. "This is the last time." He added and waved a dismissive hand, to which Germany only sighed.

"Both you and I know that isn't true." After those words, he seemed to let it go, probably used to it already so he just continued the meeting and America zoned out on him, pretending to take notes though it was obvious he was bored.

It went on for hours until finally (_finally_) it ended in the middle of France's presentation about…something, America wasn't listening to him anyway but he was sure it was nothing interesting. If it was, the hero would've been paying more attention! But since he wasn't, the presentation wasn't anything he was interested in.

Yeah, he was a Hero. A great, great Hero, there to help anyone who needed, be them stuffy old men (he chanced a glance at England and chuckled at the though, of course earning himself a confused stare) or damsels in distress. He preffered damsels in distress but saving stuffy old men was fine, too.

They didn't let anyone know-well, more like the topic didn't come up but America was pretty sure everyone knew already, anyway- but England and he had long since established a relationship. It started on the day their bosses announced their relationship as "special" and has been going on steadily ever since. That was why it wasn't weird that they ended up going to England's house together, seeing as the meeting was in England, anyway and ended up on the couch, bodies pressed together and England holding America by the waist as they watched The Avengers together, America more enthusiastic about it than England.

"Hey, America?" England spoke up out of the blue once during the movie, making Alfred tilt his head against his shoulder and grin his warm grin at his lover, humming in question quietly. "Why are you so obsessed with being a hero all the time? I had been wondering about that for a while now but I honestly couldn't find the right moment to ask…."

His grin got even warmer, if that was even possible though that wasn't the only thing, that warmed up on his face. "Wow, that's kinda a stupid question, England." He laughed and rolled his eyes when an embarrassed glare was sent his way, his lover's mouth curling downwards. "You seriously dunn' remember it?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." England huffed and his eyes averted again, making America smile even wider up at him. Was it really not obvious why he liked this guy? With his cheeks flushed and mouth curled into a small pout-England probably didn't even know he was pouting, which made it even more adorable!- he was probably the cutest thing ever!

"Well, never mind then!" He laughed his obnoxious laugh, just to piss off England and he looked back towards the TV, choosing to ignore England's glare and muttered words and sighs. He seemed to let it go though, leaning his chin on top of his head as he focused on the movie again.

Why he called himself a hero? That answer was easy. He's trying to convince himself he was and to prove to England, and England alone that he really was the hero he used to have him for, tried to make him see him that way again and make him proud. That was all.


End file.
